


In the Aftershock

by hideeho



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Evan Buckley Support Squad, Found Family, Getting Together, Gun Violence, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Team Dynamics, no one dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:27:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23036254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hideeho/pseuds/hideeho
Summary: When Eddie is injured on the job, Buck is forced to face the fallout.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 141
Kudos: 815





	1. Denial

“What time do you want me to come over,” Buck asks over the headset, head bobbing with the movement of the truck as they barrelled down the street. 

“Why don’t you come over after shift? The couch is all made up. We can sleep in and then figure out what to do from there.” Eddie responds easily, but his attention is on the phone that lights up almost as soon as he’s done typing a message. 

“And here I thought the point of this week was to have a kid free house,” Chim grins, comment accented by a sharp pop of his gum. Hen laughs beside him and offers him her fist for a quick bump. 

“Funny. Really. You’re just jealous because _unlike some people_ I’m still in the prime of my youth,” Buck boasts, cocky grin stretched across his face. 

“Oh, you’re a prime j--”

“Children,” Bobby drawls, interrupting Chim with amusement coloring his dry tone.

“How have you been holding up,” Hen inquires, expression kind beneath her glasses. “Time alone with Karen always sounds great, but by the third day without Denny we’re climbing the walls.” 

Eddie gives her a grateful smile and Buck can’t help but be envious of the understanding they seem to share over the matter. Christopher might not be his child, but he’s missing him too since he left for Texas. “I’ve been okay, but I have to admit the quiet has taken some getting used to. This is the longest we’ve been apart since I returned from Afghanistan.” 

He says it casually, but Buck knows him well enough to recognize the tension underlying his words. That’s why he first suggested they hang out after their shift, crazy as it was. Not that they needed an excuse to hang out. Still, he knew Eddie was missing Christopher desperately and he was determined to take his mind off of it. 

“I’m sure he’s missing you as much as you’re missing him,” Hen offers comfortingly. 

Eddie snorts. “Doubt it. He’s having a blast at the reunion with my parents and all his cousins. Judging from the pictures, he’s going to be hopped up on sugar for the next year.” He pulls up a picture of Christopher surrounded by a table of sweets, his head thrown back in blissful laughter.

“You really do have the cutest kid,” Buck gushes eagerly, pleased with the smile it draws from Eddie. “Along with Denny,” he quickly adds, catching Hen’s raised brow. “And May and Harry! Everyone has very cute kids. Equally cute and wonderful kids.” Even if Chris was his favorite. 

“Nice save,” Chim smirks. “Very subtle.”

"Shut u--” 

“Okay everyone, focus up. We’re here.” They all grow serious as the red and blue lights light up the night sky around them. They’re on the last stretch of a brutally long twenty-four hour shift which Buck blamed entirely on the full moon. None of them have slept properly and are all a bit slap happy with adrenaline and caffeine; frayed around the edges but competent enough to get the job done.

They’re all business as they exit the truck. Bobby makes his way to Athena with a purpose and they’re quick to follow behind. 

“What have we got?”

“Multiple car collision. One person trapped in their car, another refusing to leave theirs. The third driver and a passenger are over there,” she points. “Banged up and could use a look over, but I think they’re more rattled than anything. All of this over a damn parking spot. These people have lost their minds,” Athena huffs, watching as the other officer on scene continues to try to get the irate driver out of his car. 

“Hen and Chim, check the victims. Buck and Eddie with me. Grab the jaws,” Bobby commands and they disperse. 

Buck goes into autopilot. The strain of the shift is starting to become apparent as he feels himself dragging his body through the moments. Eddie is by his side through it all in silent unison. They move without talking, a fine tuned routine built through long shifts and trust. They’re mostly quiet; lacking the energy to banter now that they had a job to complete.

They manage to pry the first man’s car door open. His forehead is bleeding, but he’s too busy throwing obscenities against the other driver to notice. “Sir, we need you to sit still so we can get this collar around your neck.” 

“The only thing he needs around his neck are my hands,” comes a voice from the other car and he’s slamming on his hand on the horn over and over until Buck is sure he’s going to have a migraine before this call is done. 

Buck is about to say something when he feels Eddie’s hand on the small of his back, calming him with a simple touch. He’s right, he knows. Nothing good will come from engaging, even if he’s severely tempted. He can see the cops are on it, but it’s hard to be patient when the car horn is now sounding in one long string. 

They focus on the man in front of them, making way for Hen as she comes over to inspect the wound on the man’s hand. 

The horn stops and he’s so relieved it takes him a moment to realize that people are now shouting, heightened voices sounding with alarm. 

Everything that happens next happens incredibly fast and impossibly slow. 

“A gun! He has a gun!”

Buck sees the man in the other car wave his hand, holding an object he can’t quite make out from where he is. There is screaming. Shouting. Someone is telling him to drop his weapon. People are ducking. The man’s arm waves before it points in their direction. Hen moves to cover their victim and he acts without thinking; lunging to cover her with his body when he hears the sharp pop. 

He waits for something to hit; for the explosion of pain he knows is coming. He wonders for one brief hysterical moment if there will be a banner for him this time if he returns from getting shot.

The pain doesn’t come. There are additional pops and then nothing. There is a shadow over him and it takes him a moment to realize Eddie is standing behind him with his back to him surveying the chaos. When did he get there? He looks over Eddie’s shoulder to see the man in the car slumped over the steering wheel, the windshield splashed with red. 

“What the fuck?” His voice is too high, but every last nerve is officially shot. Hah. Shot. It’s not funny, but he suddenly feels a bubble of laughter building in his chest. 

“Are you okay,” Hen asks worriedly, looking him over as her hands pat him down to find wounds that aren’t there. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Jesus Christ. Eddie, can you believe this?” 

Eddie turns to him and before Buck can place what’s wrong Eddie is crumpling before him; Buck catching him on instinct. “Eddie? _Eddie_ ,” he pleads, his brain unable to catch up to what’s happening. Eddie grunts as he pulls his hand away from his stomach, his tanned fingers stained red. 

He doesn’t realize he’s screaming until Hen is forcing him back, laying Eddie on the concrete to get to his wound. Or was it wounds? It's hard to tell as the red stain expands out at an alarming rate. Eddie’s stomach is wet. It takes him a moment to accept that it’s blood. The red is blood.

“Buck, I need you to put pressure on the wound. _Buck_ ,” Hen barks and he finds himself following her command. He should be the one with the plan, the one calling for help, the one doing _something_ , but he’s frozen, shaking fingers failing to stop the flow of blood that’s pouring out of Eddie’s stomach. 

“Eddie--” he breathes, watching in numb horror as Eddie blinks up slowly at him. It doesn’t make sense. None of this makes sense. Why was he standing there? Why hadn’t he ducked? Buck had Hen covered, Eddie didn’t need to block them both. He had a child to think about. Not just any child, he had Christopher. “What did you do? _What did you do_?”

“I had your back,” Eddie coughs, his voice strained with pain. His weak attempt at a playful smile transforms quickly into a grimace as a wave of pain wracked his body. 

Things are happening around him, but he can’t process any of it. All he can process is the labored rise and fall of Eddie’s chest, the way his tan skin is growing sallow as a pool of blood grows beneath him. He has an irrational urge to scoop it up and pour it back where it belongs, but he’s too scared to move his hands from where they’re pressing on the wound. 

Eddie’s fingers slip between his own as they struggle to cover the wound; wet and slick in some grotesque mockery of holding hands. 

He’s not sure how they get into the ambulance, only able to focus on how much worse Eddie looks under the bright lights. Under the soft glow of the streetlamps it was easy to miss the pained wince etched into his skin or the way he held his entire body tensely in an effort to hide his pain. The EMT is a stranger, the rest of his team following behind in the truck. He knows he's riding as a guest and not a medic, but he can't help but feel he should be doing more. That Eddie would be doing more if their positions were reversed.

Eddie was the one that was shot, but Buck’s the one who is shaking. Shouldn't he be shaking? Wasn't a bad sign if he was too still? (Shock, his brain supplies.) No, it must be the morphine.

Eddie struggles against the restraints in an effort to observe the damage, his face falling as he takes in his own injuries. His skin is the wrong color, his forehead slick with sweat. His eyes are glassy with morphine and blood loss and for the first time since Buck laid eyes on him Eddie appears weak. In any other person these things would have Buck worried, but this was Eddie and that meant everything was different.

“You’re fine,” Buck insists. “This is nothing. You’re going to be fine.” 

They had both been around enough injuries due to gunshot wounds to know Buck’s assurances are hollow.

“Buck, I need you to tell Chri--”

“No, don’t you dare. I said you’re going to be fine.”

“Buck--”

“You’re going to be _fine_ ,” Buck snaps, harsh and desperate. “We’re going to get you patched up and you’ll be facetiming Christopher in no time. You’re going to tell him yourself, do you hear me?”

“Bu--”

“ _No_.”

“Evan,” Eddie strangles to go get out, as if it requires every last bit of energy he has left. The shock of his name silences him as much as it shames him. Buck is finally forced to recognize that Eddie is truly afraid. Any remaining protests die on his lips as blood soaked fingers grasp his own. Eddie opens his mouth to speak, but only a thick gargle escapes as his eyes roll back in his head. The machines go into a whirl of fury. He can't even remember them connecting him to a heart rate monitor. His training, experience and common sense tells him this is bad. This is really _really_ bad.

" _What's happening_ ,” he implores desperately, knowing the answer but refusing to accept what his eyes and brain are telling him. His stomach drops at the look on EMT's face. He knew that face. He's given that face. That stoic look of pity saying they're trying but you should be prepared. 

“He’s losing too much blood. His vitals are falling." 

“He’s fine. He’s going to be fine,” he finds himself repeating, not sure if he was trying to convince the EMT, himself or the universe itself. 

They had survived worse than this. Buck had survived a tsunami and a bomb sending a fire truck crashing down on him. Chim had survived a length of rebar through his skull the length of his arm. Eddie couldn’t be taken down by a piece of metal no longer than the tip of his pinky. Eddie hadn’t survived multiple tours in Afghanistan to be taken down in a parking lot here at home.

He was fine. He was going to be fine. 

There was no other option.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So not only did I decide to write from Buck's POV for a change, but I went and gave it multiple chapters. Please note, this fic is about Buck's relationship with the team as much as it is about his relationship with Eddie. I really hope you enjoy!


	2. Anger

Waiting rooms are a benign sort of torture. 

He thought nothing could itch under his skin like being stuck in a hospital bed listening to a never ending string of beeps. What a fucking idiot he had been. 

Four hours. Four hours listening to the crinkle of magazines that stopped being relevant six months ago. Four hours of listening to the low mumble of a tv screen no one was watching. Four hours of listening to pacing against tiled floors and poorly stifled sniffling from around the room. 

Four hours of not knowing whether the best friend he had ever had was going to be okay. 

“Buck, maybe it’s time to take a break,” Maddie suggests. _Again_.

“I don’t need a break,” he snaps, tired of having this conversation. Tired of waiting. Just _tired_. 

Chim looks like he’s going to say something, but Maddie cuts him off softly with a look. They have a silent conversation in front of him and once again his mind goes back to the man he has silent conversations with. 

“Okay, you don’t need a break,” she tries again, forever patient, “but when is the last time you slept? Or had something to eat? You haven’t even changed out of your clothes.”

As if he had somehow forgotten he was still covered in Eddie’s blood. His nails picked at the flaking pieces of red on his skin, a reminder that this was really happening. Deep down he knows she’s right, but he’s too tired and frayed to admit what was plainly obvious to everyone around him. “I don’t want to sleep, I’m not hungry and I’m not leaving him alone until his family gets here.” He knows he’s being a brat. He can hear it in his voice, but he can’t seem to stop himself. 

“Buckaroo, you know the drill. We will take turns staying here,” Chim offers, but Buck doesn’t want to hear it. 

“ _I’m not leaving him_.” He doesn’t realize he’s shouting until people are looking at him. He knows he should apologize, he knows they’re just trying to help, but all he can focus on is _Eddie, Eddie, Eddie_. He stands before either of them can continue, actively ignoring Cap and Athena’s worried glances at him from across the room. 

He doesn’t need their concern. Eddie is the one they should be focused on. Eddie, who he’s furious at, but not allowed to be because he could be dy--

He can’t. 

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, screwing his eyes shut for a moment as he tries how to remember how to be human. He doesn’t feel like himself. He’s fuzzy, distorted and he can’t quite seem to make his brain and body click. “I can’t sit here and do nothing. I’m going to ask for an update.”

“Buck, they’ll let us know when there is news--”

“It has been two hours. They can give us an update,” Buck states sharply, as if Maddie hadn’t been an ER nurse who knew exactly what she was talking about. He needed to do something before his thoughts drove him mad. A few people shot him wary glances as he made his way to the nurses’ station. He knew he had to look a mess; covered in blood and jittery. He ignored them all. “Excuse me? Yes, excuse me, I’m looking for an update on Eddie Diaz? Or maybe he’s under Edmundo Diaz? The firefighter that was brought in.”

“Are you a blood relation?”

“No, but--”

“Husband?”

“No, I’m--”

“I’m sorry sir, but unless you’re a spouse or blood relation I’m afraid I can’t give you any other information than that he is still in surgery.” 

“Yeah, that’s not good enough,” he says without thinking, telling himself to take a breath as she looks like she’s bracing herself for something Buck doesn’t even know is coming. 

“Sir, I respect that you’re worried about your friend and I’m sorry for what you must be going through, but as you can see we are very busy and policy is policy.” She’s using her customer service voice on him and it grates under his skin. 

“Respectfully, I don’t care if you’re busy. We have been here for four hours. We’re going to be here for another fours if we have to be. His family is coming in from Texas and we have no idea when they’ll be here, but until they are we are all he has.”

“I understand--”

“ _No_ , you clearly _don’t_ understand. We may not be his blood relatives, but we’re his family.” 

“Sir--”

“Don’t _sir_ me!” It was as if someone had pulled him out of his body and a complete stranger had taken over. He could hear himself yelling, feel himself pound his fist on the counter and rattle a cup of pens, but he was powerless to stop it. “We are firefighters. Do you know what that means? It means we trust each other with our lives.”

“I know this--”

“What, you need more? Fine, do you want to hear about how I help his son with homework? Or go grocery shopping with him? Or how I’m the person he calls if he needs anything? What, do you need proof? Here,” he starts, pulling out his cellphone and shoving it in front of her face with shaky hands. “Have some pictures. Here we are at the zoo. Here we are at his son’s art fair. Here--”

“Sir,” she says with a calmness that he will respect later on, “If you don’t calm down I’m going to have to call security.”

Her words act as gasoline on a flame. “Are you kidding me? Just listen to me! We’re his family. _I’m_ his family.” He realizes with stunned disbelief that she’s reaching for her phone, as if he’s some sort of threat. Him. _Him_. When there were people out there waving guns around and _shooting people._ “Don’t. Stop. Why are you doing this? I’m trying to tell you--”

“Buck.” Athena’s voice comes as a command, piercing through his growing hysteria. Maddie is beside her, concern clear on her face as she slowly reaches out to him as if he was a wild animal that might bite. Her touch on his arm breaks through the fog in his mind and he feels himself deflate. 

He didn’t mean to scare anyone, especially not Maddie. 

“I’m his family, too,” he says weakly. A defense. An excuse. A realisation.

“We know, Buck. We know,” Maddie says gently, bringing her arm around his waist in support. Athena is talking to the nurse, trying to call off the security guard that must have arrived without him realizing. He can’t be kicked out. He needs to be here for Eddie. He knows the others are here, but they’re not him. They’re not the person Eddie stepped in front of a bullet for. They’re not the reason he’s in here to begin with. He can’t leave him. 

“I’m sorry,” he finds himself saying, unable to bring himself to meet any of their eyes. She was just doing her job, he knows that better than most. He’s just so _tired_. (Scared, his brain supplies.) 

“Come on, you’re coming with us,” Athena says sternly, but not unkindly, leaving no room for argument. He follows Athena and Maddie blindly, one on each side keeping him from collapsing completely. 

“Are they kicking me out?”

“No, kiddo. They’re not kicking you out. _Yet_ ,” Athena warns. “I know you’re worried about Eddie, but you’re no good to him like this. Let’s take care of you while the doctors take care of him. Ah-ah, that wasn’t a suggestion.”

He follows him through a room he doesn’t recognize and it takes him a moment to realize it’s an on-call room. She must have pulled some favors to get them to let them in here after his stunt out there. 

“I don’t think I can sleep…”

“That’s okay, Buck, let’s just get you cleaned up first,” Maddie urges, steering him into the bathroom. He flinches at his reflection; not recognizing himself with the dark bags under his eyes and streaks of dried blood from where he must have rubbed his face. He looks like someone out of a horror film. No wonder the nurse had been afraid. 

He can’t even bring himself to protest as they take turns wetting washcloths to wipe off his hands, his arms, his face. It’s comforting in a way that he hadn’t known to expect and for the first time since he saw the gun his brain is quiet. 

“Buck, do you think you can manage a shower? You can change into the clothes I brought you,” Maddie suggests gently. 

“I don’t think I can,” he admits, weak and defeated. 

“You can, because you don’t want Eddie’s family seeing you like this,” Athena urges, pointing down to his soiled clothes. The idea of Christopher seeing him covered in his father’s blood...

“I can do it.”

“And we’ll be right outside if you need us,” Athena offers, pulling him into a tight hug. He can feel Maddie at his back and for a moment he feels whole again buried between them; safe from falling into a million pieces he won’t be able to put back together again. “You’re not alone in this. We’ve got you.”

It wasn’t him he was worried about. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


	3. Bargaining

“ _Eddie,_ ” he awakes with a start, leg throbbing in time with the pounding in his head. By the time he realizes where he is Bobby is by his side, warm hand on his shoulder. 

“He’s still in surgery.”

“How long was I out?” Athena and Maddie insisted he close his eyes for five minutes. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Guilt coils in his stomach, even if he knows it’s irrational. 

“About three hours, which is at least five hours too few.”

“Three hours? That means he’s been in surgery for over seven,” he realizes quickly, dread seizing his heart. He shouldn’t have fallen asleep. What he would have done if he was awake he’s not sure, but that’s not the point. 

“There have been some complications,” Cap concedes, eyes crinkled in concern. “His grandmother got in about twenty minutes ago.”

Complications? Fuck. 

“Christopher?”

“They’re still driving in. Between the cost of the last minute flights and the fact they all couldn’t get seats on the first flight out they decided to drive. They sent her ahead given her hip. I’d say they’re about a half day out. Hopefully we’ll know more by then.”

“Where is abuela?” If Bobby wonders why Buck refers to her so familiarly, he doesn’t say anything. 

“She’s with the priest.”

“A priest? Why--”

“Hey, hey,” Cap starts, placing a hand on both of his shoulders to calm his spiral. “No one is thinking the worst. Eddie is a fighter, you know that better than anyone. He’s here for moral support. Prayer can be comforting in times like this, that’s all.” He tries not to make a face. It’s not that he’s anti-religion, but it had never played an active part in his life. “We can go down to the chapel if you’d like. I know she’d like to see you and I have a funny feeling you’re not going back to sleep.”

“I don’t know…”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I’ll go to say hi to abula, but I’m not giving my confession.”

Cap smiles and it almost feels normal. “I don’t think that will be a problem. There are only so many hours in a day.”

“Are you implying I’m a sinner?”

“I’m implying that Buck 1.0 probably has a few stories that would make the good Father blush. Come on, we’ll get some terrible coffee on the way.” The coffee is terrible, but it gives his hands something to do. 

They make a detour to the nurses’ station at Buck’s insistence. He leaves a cup of coffee and an apology as a peace offering. He knows it doesn’t make up for earlier, but she spares him a nod and he feels a truce has been made. 

As they get closer to the chapel he can’t help but get nervous. What if she’s angry at him for not protecting Eddie? Worse, what if she’s disappointed? He already knows it should have been him and not Eddie. He should have paid more attention to where Eddie was. He should have made sure he was safe. 

“Evan? Oh, my sweet boy,” comes an exhausted voice. He has to bend to accept her hug as she kisses each of his cheeks. She looks him over with stern precision. “You’re too skinny.”

“You saw me a week ago.”

“And you’ve gotten too skinny.” Cap has the nerve to _smirk_.

“I’m fine, Mrs.--”

“Don’t you dare, young man. I told you, call me abuela.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” Eddie would be laughing at him if he were here. He’d egg her on in Spanish and watch in amusement as she fussed over him. Eddie should be here. As if sensing his train of thought, she pulls him into one of the pews of the chapel. The three of them are the only ones there. It’s a small room. Small and quiet. It doesn’t seem so bad now that he’s here. 

To his left Isabel pulls out a rosary and begins going down the string of beads. To his right cap has his head down in silent prayer. It’s awkward for a moment. He’s not sure what to do. There hadn’t been time to pray when Maddie was taken or Christopher was now. Now he seems to have nothing but time. 

He used to pray as a kid, he thinks, when he was scared, lonely and looking for any sign that something out there gave a damn about him. He doesn’t remember it ever helping. If anything, it left him feeling more alone. Putting his hands together feels disingenuous, so instead he focuses his attention on a LED candle flickering on the front table. 

He thinks of Eddie. He thinks of Christopher. He thinks of Christopher and Eddie. 

_Why did you stand in front of me? You have a son to think about. He needs you. I need you. I’m the reckless impulsive one. I already called dibs, asshole._

He can picture Eddie rolling his eyes so clearly it’s like he’s there. _You think you’re the only one who gets to play hero, Buckley?_

He smiles despite himself. 

Buck doesn’t know if he believes in god, but he thinks he believes in something. There was too much in the universe for it all to be completely random. _I don’t know if there is anyone out there, but let him be okay. He has to be okay. He has a son who needs him. He already lost his mother; don’t take his father away too. Don’t let him be an orphan._

It should have been him. It was supposed to have been him. _I should have died so many times by now. Take the rest of my nine lives and give him this one. I’ll do anything. I’ll be a better person. I’ll take less risks. I’ll take more risks. I’ll do whatever you want. Anything._

“Hey guys,” Hen’s voice breaks through, “Mrs. Diaz, the doctors are looking for you. They have an update.” 

She puts her rosary in her purse, smooths out her skirt and rises with a calmness Buck will never understand. She looks at him for a moment as if waiting for him to do something, only he doesn’t know what. “Well, aren’t you coming?”

“Oh, I thought you’d want to talk to them alone.”

“Don’t be silly. Eddie loves you, that makes you family.” He doesn’t miss the look Cap and Hen shares, nor does he acknowledge it. Best friends can love each other; it doesn’t have to mean anything other than that. 

He stands to join her, offering her his arm as they make their way down the hall. With each step he sends out a prayer to the universe. _Let him be okay._

His prayers have never been answered before, he’s not sure why he thought it would be any different now. 


	4. Depression

_Lost a lot of blood. Had to resuscitate him. Touch and go. Went without oxygen. Wait and see. ___

____

____

Buck has never been one to be afraid to cry. He’ll be the first to admit to crying at reunion videos or a moving sports montage. (The athletes work so hard, you know?) It feels strange that in all the chaos he hasn’t cried for Eddie. He feels like he should be sobbing or screaming or maybe a bit of both. 

Instead he feels numb. 

It’s not that he wants to start crying. If he starts crying he'll never stop. He’ll drown in it. Ever since the tsunami--

He doesn't want to drown. 

Maybe he’s drowning already. 

“Hey Buckaroo, we brought you something to eat,” Chim offers, handing him a sandwich he doesn’t want. He takes a bite, too tired to protest. He’s halfway through the sandwich before he realizes he has no idea what it is. Maybe his taste buds are numb too. 

“I’m not weak,” he feels the need to say. Someone has been by his side since he woke up. They’re taking shifts for him as much as Eddie, he realizes. It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate it, but they’re worried about Eddie too. He doesn’t want to be an added burden. 

“No one thinks you are,” Hen assures him, wrapping a warm arm around him. He’s flanked by the two of him. It’s never easy when one of them ends up here, but this is different. They somehow know it’s different. 

“No one with your ratio of muscle to fat would ever be confused for weak,” Chim adds, making a valiant effort to lighten the mood. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re no _me_ , but you’re still young. You have time.”

“ _Please_ ,” Hen scoffs, bumping her shoulder against Buck’s. “They say that the rebar didn’t cause any brain damage, but sometimes I wonder…”

“Need I remind you that you’re talking to a real life male model. They don’t let just anyone become Mr. April.” 

He should laugh. Or smile, perhaps. He should acknowledge their attempt at banter, but he doesn’t have the energy. He takes another bite of food he can’t taste and forces himself to swallow around the lump in his throat. 

“Chris should be here soon,” Hen offers, unrelenting in her efforts to cheer him up. Her hopeful smile turns into a frown as he tenses under her words. “Buckaroo, what’s going on? You love that kid. I thought you’d be jumping out of your skin to see him.”

He sighs. “I do, but…”

“But,” Chim presses, both of them looking at him like he’s grown a second head. 

“I don’t think I can see him right now.”

The silence weighs heavy. No matter how much he curls in on himself, he can’t seem to make himself as small as he feels. 

“Talk to us, Buck,” Chim urges, squeezing his shoulder in support. 

“Know when to ask for help, remember,” Hen adds, rubbing soothing circles on his back. 

“In the ambulance, Eddie,” he pauses, voice thick. He’s not going to cry. He’s not going to fall apart now. “Eddie, he, um, he wanted me to tell Chris something. I kept cutting him off,” he admits, waiting for their judgment and anger. He deserved it. “That could be the last chance he had to say something to his son and I didn’t let him say it because I was scared. I was scared that if he said his goodbyes then he wouldn’t come back. I needed him to be okay, you know? I was selfish and stupid and if something happens to him it’s all my fault. I’ll have robbed him of that forever. Chris will hate me and I’ll deserve it,” he sobs, a flood gate of tears and words pouring out of him. 

Shame and regret burn hot in him. He wants to peel off his own skin to escape from it, but it will still be there burned down deep in his bones. 

“I fucked up. I really fucked up and I don’t know if I’ll be able to fix it.” His body shakes with the force of his sob; a mess of tears and snot that he can’t control. “He trusted me and I failed him. _Again._ ”

“Oh sweetie, no. You didn’t fail him,” Hen breathes, arms wrapping tightly around him in a desperate squeeze. Two more arms encase him and he doesn’t deserve any of it. Didn’t they hear him? They should be disgusted. He was disgusted. “If you think Chris could ever hate you, you’ve lost your damn mind. That boy thinks you hung the moon, just like his father.”

And that was--

A nice platitude. Nothing more. No matter how much his heart longed for it to be true. 

“Eddie of all people would understand,” Chim insists. “You’re human, Buck, that’s all. You’re allowed to be human.”

“I should have let him talk. I should have listened.”

“Eddie is going to bounce back and he’ll tell Chris whatever it is he wanted to say.” Chim sounds so sure, but a nagging worry has infected his brain turning his hope into mockery. 

“What if he doesn’t?” 

“There is nothing he could have said that you don’t already know. You know how that man feels about his son.” Hen squeezes him again, lifting her chin to kiss his forehead. “Be there for his boy and you’ll have done all he could have asked for.” 

Eddie should be here for his son, not him. Eddie was an amazing father. He would know exactly what to do or say. Why hadn’t he let Eddie talk? Why didn’t he listen?

“Don’t get lost in that head of yours, Buckaroo. Hindsight is a tricky bitch and she shouldn’t be trusted,” Hen warns. 

“I don’t want to lose him,” he admits softly. He had spent so long on his own. He wasn’t sure he knew how to go back to that now. He only knew he didn’t want to. 

“We know.” He slumps against them, trusts them enough to fall apart. He might not be strong enough to put himself back together, but they were. He had shared his shame and they were still here. His team. His family. 

“Eddie’s parents are bringing Christopher up,” Athena says entering the room, regal and authoritative as ever in a t-shirt and jeans. “Word is he’s demanding to see you,” she adds with a warm grin.

“He is?”

“I’ve been told he’s a very little man on a very big mission.” He smiles despite himself. That’s his Christopher. No, Eddie’s Christopher. (Theirs, if only he’d allow it.) 

“Right. Okay. I need to wash my face first.” As if that would hide the red tint to his eyes. He’s colder without their arms around him, but he feels braver. They’ve made him braver. “I love you guys,” he adds, wishing he was eloquent enough to properly tell them. 

“We love you,” Hen says. “Now go get your boy.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this story has been heavy and I appreciate all of you so much for sticking with me. As a reward, you get some Christopher Diaz next chapter! <3


	5. Acceptance

“Buck!”

The distinct clack of crutches against the tiled floor beats in time with his heart. He finds himself in a near sprint to get to the little man, scooping him up and holding him tight. Any trepidation melts away as tiny arms come to circle around his neck. 

So many things run through his head, but more than anything he feels relief.

“Hey buddy, I’m really glad to see you.”

“Me too,” Chris breathes, patting Buck’s cheek in comfort. “I was worried about you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, I didn’t want you to be scared without daddy.” 

The world didn’t deserve this kid. “I’ve had all these people keeping me company,” he says, forcing a smile as he motions out to his team. “But I’m _much_ better now that you’re here.” He squeezes Christopher again, knowing he should put him down, but not quite ready to let him go. Christopher seems to understand, letting Buck hold him as long as he needs. 

“Where are your grandparents, bud?”

“They’re with Eddie,” Cap provides from behind him. “He’s stable enough for visitors. Still sleeping, but they’ve gone in to see him and speak with the doctor. They wanted to give you two a chance to see each other before bringing you in.”

“They don’t mind? I know there is a limit on visitors. Wouldn’t they rather--”

“I told them I wanted you to go with me,” Christopher declares, pushing his glasses further up his nose. “We’re a team.” 

He’s not sure how he got so lucky to have Christopher in his life, but he’d wade through hell itself to keep him there. 

Buck sets Chris down as a woman he recognizes as Eddie’s mother approaches. Her husband walks behind her, eyeing Buck with a wariness that has him straightening his posture. He has only met them in person at Shannon’s funeral. Maybe one day they’ll interact when the world isn’t so doom and gloom. 

“Hello, Evan. It’s nice to see you again,” Helena says, opening her arms up for a hug. “I heard you haven’t left since it happened. Thank you for being here. It means a lot to us.” 

“Of course. He’s my best friend. I hope you know I’d do anything for him. For all of you,” he adds quickly. 

“I’m glad he has you,” Helena says softly. “I was so worried when he first moved to California, but he speaks of you so fondly.” She wipes away a wayward tear, the strain of the situation evident on her face. “Sorry, I’m sorry. This is a lot. Bichito, are you ready to see your papa,” she asks, bending down to speak to Christopher. 

Christopher nods, grabbing Buck’s hand with his own.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to go with you,” Ramon asks, already stepping closer to Christopher. Where Helena is warm, Ramon is stoic. Eddie has always spoken with admiration for his father, but Buck can’t help but feel intimidated. Like the man is sizing him up and he’s coming up wanting. 

“I want to go with Buck,” Christopher insists. 

“They’ll be fine,” Helena tells her husband, placing her hand on his arm. “We’ll be right outside if you need anything.”

He has spent every minute longing to see Eddie, to prove to himself that he was still alive, but now that he’s here he finds himself frozen to the spot. The only thing that forces him to move is Christopher’s light tugging on his hand. 

He may be over six feet tall, but as they enter the room he finds himself walking behind Christopher. Using a tiny child as a human shield like a fucking coward. As they approach his heart drops. Eddie’s skin is the wrong color; swallow and pale. He lacks the spark that makes him so _him_. He’s sleeping, but there is no peace to it. Wires extend from his hands and chest, making him look small. 

“He’s really hurt, isn’t he?” Christopher’s voice is small and scared, wavering as he squeezes Buck’s fingers tighter. 

“Yeah, buddy, he is.” 

They move to sit beside his bed. Christopher leans over to kiss his father’s hand, just above the tape keeping his IV in place. “Hi, dad. I hope you wake up soon. I miss you.”

Buck wants to say something, but he knows if he does his voice will break. He wants to be strong for Christopher like the others had been strong for him. He pulls Christopher into a side hug, bending to kiss the top of his head. 

“Do you think he’ll have a scar from surgery?”

He hadn’t really thought about it. “Um, yeah. Yeah, probably.”

“Now we’ll all have one. We’ll match. Sort of.”

“I guess we will.” He wants to take Eddie’s hand in his own, but it doesn’t feel like his place. Do best friends hold hands? They didn’t when he was in the hospital last, but it feels like so much had changed since then. 

“Buck, what happens if he doesn’t get better?”

“Oh, hey. _No_ , your dad is going to get better in no time.”

“But what if he doesn’t,” Chris insists, looking up at him with large eyes behind his glasses.

“He _will_ ,” Buck counters. 

Christopher sighs, lower lip trembling as he wrings his hands. “I know daddy misses mommy sometimes. What if he wants to be with her more than me?” He’s had physical blows that hurt less than this. 

Buck turns to look directly at Chris, one large hand on either of his small shoulders. “Your father loves you so much. He loved your mom, yeah, but _you_ are his world. There is no one he’d rather be with. Don’t ever doubt that, okay? That man lives and breathes for you.”

“Mommy loved me but she still died.”

He shouldn’t be the one talking to him about this. He’s not qualified. Why had he cut Eddie off? Why hadn’t he listened? He’s only going to make things worse, but he remembers Hen’s words about being there for him. He owes it to Eddie to try. 

“If I know one thing, it’s that there will never be a day when you don’t have someone who loves you that you can reach out to. You will always have your family, your friends, everyone at the firehouse. You’ll always have _me_. You are never ever going to be alone. Not unless you want to be and even then we’ll be right there when you need us.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. I love you, buddy.”

“I love you too, Buck.” 

He loses track of how long they sit there together. Christopher talks to his dad, telling him everything from his trip to Texas to dinosaurs he has learned about and everything in between. Buck wills Eddie awake with his mind, alternating between taunts and pleads as he looks for any sign of movement. 

Nothing comes. Still, his chest continues to rise and fall in a steady rhythm so he takes it as a win. 

His body is stiff when they come to take Christopher home. Visiting hours will be over soon, but he hates the idea of Eddie waking up alone. “Do you mind if I stay with him for a few more minutes? I won’t be long.” He feels selfish for seeking more of Eddie’s time, but he needs a moment alone with him. For what, he’s not really sure. 

For whatever reason they grant him his wish. Only now he’s not really sure what to do. 

He flexes his fingers a few times before finally gathering up the nerve to hold Eddie’s hand like he desperately wanted. The top of his hand is marred by tape and wires, but his skin is warm and it’s a comfort all the same. 

“You are such a fucking asshole, Diaz. That’s right, I called you Diaz. What are you going to do about it? Oh, the silent treatment. Real mature.” And maybe he has finally snapped, but he can picture Eddie’s arched eyebrow and amused smirk so clearly it physically hurts. 

“You can’t go playing hero when you have a kid at home. It was selfish and stupid and I’m so fucking mad at you. I’m not going to forgive you until you wake up, you got that? So wake up already, okay? Wake up.” 

He doesn’t. 

“Fine, I’ll forgive you, but I’m not happy about it.” 

He knew what life was like without him. He didn’t want to go back to that. He needed his best friend. He needed the man he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He had accepted long ago that Eddie would never want him in all the ways he would have liked, but he would take whatever scraps were thrown his way as long as it was Eddie throwing them. 

Buck has spent so many guilty nights with his hand beneath his boxers, imagining slender tan fingers in place of his own. Yet his guiltiest nights of all are when he’s sitting with Eddie and Christopher on the couch, imagining that’s his family and his life. That they’re his as much as he’s theirs. 

There was so much he needed to tell him. There was supposed to be time to tell him. That was the deal.

“Hey Buck, visiting hours are wrapping up. Let me take you home,” Bobby offers, coming in to stand behind him. 

“I don’t want to leave him.”

“We’ll be back first thing in the morning, I promise.”

He knows he’s right, but he can’t quite seem to pull himself away. 

“I love him, Bobby.” No, that wasn’t quite right. “I’m in love with him.” 

“I know, son. I know.” 


	6. Peace

Thirty-eight hours later he gets the call. He breaks ten different traffic laws that were sure to cause Athena’s head to spin, but he makes it back to the hospital in record time. 

He races up the stairs to the third floor, too impatient to wait one more moment for the elevator. He bursts into the room with a distinct lack of grace. Brown eyes blink at him slowly and there is a lopsided smile gracing Eddie’s face. 

Buck opens his mouth, wracking his brain for the perfect thing to say, but Eddie beats him to the punch. 

“You look terrible.” Which, _rude._

“You’re one to talk.”

“Not nice. I’m hurt,” Eddie pouts, words thick and clumsy with fatigue and he’s guessing a large dose of pain meds. 

“And I haven’t slept in days, because _someone_ decided to play hero.” He tries to play up his annoyance, but he’s just so fucking happy to see him alive and awake he can’t keep it up for more than five seconds. “You’re an asshole,” he adds, flopping down in the chair next to his bed with a heavy thud. 

“I’ve been told that before.” 

“You scared me,” Buck admits. 

“I know. I’m sorry.” A silence settles between them that’s not entirely uncomfortable. 

“Do I really look terrible,” Buck deflects, his wounded ego an easier thing to focus on than what he really wants to say. Eddie brushes a finger across his cheek, the touch languid and unexpected. He can’t help but jump a bit in surprise, hating how he so easily leans into it without thinking. 

“Yes, but nice too. Guapo.” He’s definitely high, but he’s also relaxed in a way Buck has rarely seen him. It’s charming as much as it is ridiculous. 

“I know what that means, you know,” Buck adds, a bit breathless.

“And?” The challenge of it all is so perfectly Eddie he can finally allow himself to believe he’s going to be okay; that he is okay. 

“You really fucking scared me,” he says again, his voice cracking slightly. 

“Scared myself,” Eddie replies, eyes calculating something he can’t quite place. He must get it from his father. It’s unnerving. Before he can tell him so he’s shuffling in the bed. “Come here.”

“Eddie, wha--Stop moving, you’re going to pull something.”

“Don’t care, come here.” 

“We can’t both fit on that bed.”

“Sure we can.”

“Stop. _Stop_. What are you doing?”

“ _We’re_ taking a nap,” Eddie insists, tapping his hand on the bed beside him. “I’m the reason you haven’t been able to sleep so I’m the one that’s going to fix it. Come here.”

“Jesus, you’re on more drugs than I thought.”

“Would you shut up and come lay down with me already?” 

“I don’t want to hurt you. 

“You won’t.” 

It’s absolutely absurd, but Eddie seems intent on shoving himself as far to the side as he can and if he scoots any further he’s going to fall off the damn bed, wires and all. Buck slowly sits himself on the bed. There really isn’t room for both of them, but if he lays on his side, face a breath away from Eddie he can manage. Barely, but he manages. 

“See? I told you,” Eddie preens, warm breath puffing against the top of Buck’s head. His ass is half off the bed, body teetering on the edge to avoid jostling anything he shouldn’t. He must look like an absolute idiot and yet there is no place he’d rather be. There is a sterile scent to Eddie, but underneath it is all him. Warm and familiar. He breathes it in, over and over as he watches the rise and all of Eddie’s chest. 

He wakes up with a cramp in his leg and his arm so asleep he can barely flex his fingers. 

It’s the best damn sleep he’s ever had. 

“Morning, sunshine,” Eddie drawls, warm brown eyes crinkled in amusement. “Afternoon, actually. Christopher didn’t want to wake you, but he saved you a fruit cup.” He seems more Eddie and less Eddie on pain medication. They’re close, closer than he even realized which is surprising given how close they’re smashed into the bed. He would barely have to tilt his head to claim Eddie’s lips with his own. 

If that was something he wanted to do. 

(He did. He really fucking did.)

“I’m still mad at you.” 

“I know,” Eddie sighs, leaning his head back on the pillow and closing his eyes. He could feel Eddie closing off and if he wasn’t injured he’d shake him until he was forced to look at him. 

“So why the fuck did you do it?”

Eddie shrugs, wincing sharply at the movement. He opens his mouth once, twice and then pauses a third. Buck forces himself to be patient as Eddie seems to struggle with whether or not to say what’s on his mind. Finally he opens his eyes, looking at Buck for a moment too long before speaking. “I watched someone I love die once. I didn’t want to do it again.” 

Oh. 

_Oh._

“I love you.” Right, well, not exactly how he meant to tell him. As if sensing his panic Eddie brings an arm up wrap around the back of his head, fingers sliding through the short hairs at the back of his neck and holding him in place. 

“I know.”

“Wait. How? Did you hear me in your coma?” He _knew_ that was a thing. 

“No. What? It’s from Star Wars. I swear, I’m starting to think you’ve never even seen an actual movie in your entire life.”

“Hey, I’ve seen a movie--”

“You told me you loved me while I was in a coma,” Eddie cuts him off, looking at him with a gaze that’s--Loving. He’s looking at him lovingly. He doesn’t know what to do with that. 

“Well, yeah. Only way to be sure you wouldn’t run off screaming,” Buck says, trying to brush it off as a joke, but it comes out strained. 

“I wouldn’t run.”

“Yeah?” Eddie nods and Buck lets out a breath. 

“Yeah, I love you, too, by the way, in case it wasn’t clear. I was going to tell you in a far less dramatic fashion, but I suppose this works just as well.” 

He digs his fingernail into his palm until he knows there will be a half moon shape mark in his skin. Not a dream, then. A hallucination, maybe. Whatever it is, he’s happy to fall under its spell as Eddie’s lips slide against his own, tongue coaxing his mouth open. 

Months (years) of suppressed want is released as he finds himself shifting closer, reaching out with greedy hands to _touch_ now that he has permission. He stops abruptly as Eddie tenses under his grasp.

“Oh my god, shit, I’m sorry. I forgot.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Eddie assures him, pressing soft kisses to the corner of his mouth. “Maybe we keep it a bit more PG for now. Wouldn’t want to scar any of the nurses with something they can’t unsee.”

“Fine, but wait until we get you home. I’ll show you all the things I’ve been wanting to do to you,” he promises, voice low and husky against Eddie’s mouth. 

Eddie’s heart rate monitor beeps with dramatic flourish as his heart rate increases. 

“Oh, ho, ho, look who has the hots for me.”

“Shut up,” Eddie grumbles, cheeks flushing red. 

“I make your heart go pitter-patter. I have proof. It’s so cute how obsessed with me you are,” Buck teases, watching in delight as Eddie squirms in embarrassment. 

“You’re an idiot.”

“Your idiot,” Buck corrects. And yeah, that sounds right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all those who stuck through to the end! Your comments and encouragement have meant the world to me.

**Author's Note:**

> Your comments and kudos give me life.


End file.
